


Tired

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Insecurity, Reader Insert, Self Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long, hellish hunt, you sit in your room, exhausted, emotionally and physically, letting your inner Demons run rampant through your mind. Sam comes to comfort you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

Unloading your duffel bag onto the dresser across from your bed, you slam the door shut with your heel, relieved that you were finally alone at last. Your last hunt had gone horribly wrong, the family you had been trying to save, dying while you stood by, unable to help. Sam and Dean had both assured you it wasn't your fault, that you couldn't have done anything to save the Mom and her two young children, but the sight of their lifeless eyes would be burned into your memory for a long time.

Sighing, you changed into your comfiest pair of sleep pants, along with a ratted, old shirt of Sam's, one that had thought had gotten thrown away a long time ago. You needed the comfort of familiar clothes and smells, and if you couldn't actually cuddle with Sam, wearing his shirt that still held a hint of his smell was the next best thing.

Once you were dressed, your hair in a messy bun on top of your head, you fluffed your pillows up, leaning against the headboard, a book in your hands, ready for something, anything to distract you. You knew if you went into the main part of the bunker, you would find Dean settled into one of the library's many chairs, a crystal decanter on the table, a glass full of the amber liquid in his hands. He would welcome you to join him, but you needed to be alone. You needed time to yourself, time to let your thoughts float through your mind, thoughts that you would never share with any one else. How you thought you were never good enough, that innocent people had just died because of you. The words I hate myself, or I hate my life kept slipping past your lips, even though there was no one there to tell them to. These moods, as people called them, came often, your nightly companion.

You knew it wasn't healthy, keeping everything bottled up inside. You knew there were people out there who were willing to help you, Sam would invite you in with open arms, and while Dean was gruff and hid his problems just as well as you, he would still pour you a shot without asking. But it felt guilty and wrong to unload your problems on them. They were going through the same problems, if not more, and you didn't want to burden them with your issues on top of it. It was easier to sit alone in your room, tears forming in your eyes, and listen to the negative thoughts as they ran through your mind.

If they became too hard to handle, you would turn to your book, or whiskey, trying to drown them out, but that only worked for so long before they came back. Sleep would keep them at bay, as would the day when you were busy doing research, cleaning up after the messy boys, or actually participating in a hunt. But on the drive back you slowly felt yourself start to drift, sitting their in the backseat, your face covered in shadows, self doubt and sadness would creep in, and it took everything in your power to hold it in until you reached the bunker.

Rolling over onto your side, you held your pillow tight to your chest, needing something to hold onto, as the tears threatened to fall. Sniffing your nose, you tried to breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself down, knowing if you didn't, you would pay for it in the morning with puffy red eyes, dark circles underneath.

It was then you heard a tentative knock against your door. "Y/N, it's me Sam. Can I come in?" His soft, melodic voice said from the other side of the thick wooden door.

You quickly wiped underneath your eyes, trying to wipe away any tears that might have escaped, hoping your eyes weren't too red yet. Tossing the pillow back behind you, you hoped Sam wouldn't be staying long enough to noticed how emotionally exhausted you were.

"Come in." You said, your voice gravelly and hoarse from lack of use and the tears clogging it. The handle rattled for a moment before the door creaked open, and Sam's profile was seen in the crack. Seeing you sitting on your bed, he slipped in, gently shutting the door behind him, before standing beside the bed, looking awkward and out of place.

You waited, not wanting to speak exactly yet, waiting to see what had brought him into your room, when he didn't often venture into your space, preferring to give your your privacy.

"I just came to see how you were holding up. That hunt was a terrible one, and I know you took it extremely hard." He explained, fiddling with his hands. You had never seen the tall hunter this unsure of himself before, and the sight in front of you took your mind of off your own insecurities for the moment.

Patting the bed next to you, you waited for him to sit down. The bed tilted a little bit once he did, groaning under his size. He was dressed in track pants and a t shirt, his feet in socks. Sliding his legs onto the bed, he copied your posture, both of you leaning against the headboard, your legs straight in front of you. No one said anything for a moment, both content to sit in silence.

Finally, you spoke, amazed at the words that came out of your mouth. "I did. I should have been able to save them, but I couldn't. I screwed up. Why do I screw everything up?" You asked, the words ending on a sob.

"Shh." He said, raising his arm and pulling you to him until your head was resting against his chest, your tears darkening the navy blue shirt. He rubbed your arm soothingly, up and down, over and over again. "It's not your fault. That Demon would have done it no matter what. We couldn't have stopped it. I know it's hard, and it will take some time, but please don't beat yourself up over this." He begged, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"It's not just the hunt." You said between hiccups. "I just feel so lost, like I've lost control of my life. I look in the mirror and hate the person looking back at me." You told him. The dam was open, once you had opened your mouth, it seemed like their was no stopping it. You cringed, hoping Sam wouldn't shrug your insecurities away, or laugh them off, saying you were being silly. That's why you had stayed quiet for so long, keeping everything bottled inside. You were afraid that if you told someone, they would consider it stupid or petty, that you were just being dramatic. And you couldn't take that from Sam, he meant too much to you.

"You know what? Forget I said anything. It was a moment of weakness." You told him, sitting up, and attempting to pull away, physically and emotionally. Sam's arm around you tightened, holding you still. You kept your head down, not wanting to look up and see the pity that must be shining in his eyes.

"Y/N, look at me." He ordered, but you refused, shaking your head, the tears falling once again, and you hated the show of weakness, but you could do nothing to stop them.

You felt him sigh, before he placed a hand on each cheek, forcing you to look up at him. Instead of the pity you expected to see, Sam's eyes were gazing down at you full of love and empathy. It surprised you, and shook you to the core.

"I know how you feel, because I feel the exact same way. There are days that I don't even want to get out of bed, knowing how hard the day is going to be. I look in the mirror, and all I can see is the face of a person who has screwed up so many times, has caused so many people heart break and misery. But do you know what? It's having people like you surrounding me, believing in me, ready to fight by my side if need be that keeps me going."

You shook your head, not wanting to believe him. You knew he had his own issues, but hearing him say the words, that he was going through some of the same things, made you realize that maybe you weren't the only one suffering alone. 

"Please, if you feel like this again, come get me. I know you think it's easier to fight this on your own, that you don't want to burden anyone else. But please, I care about you too much to see you suffering by yourself. Maybe together we can heal, and we can see that we aren't as bad as we believe ourselves to be." He told you, his hazel eyes sincere as they held your gaze.

"I can try. But I've kept it to myself for so long." You started, afraid that the wall you had built around yourself was too big and strong to collapse, that no matter how hard you tried you would always keep a part of yourself back, the part that Sam was asking you to share with him.

 

He smiled at you then. "Baby steps." He promised. "Start small. And you've already done a good job, opening up to me like you did." 

He went to get up then, and you froze. You didn't want him to go away, you still craved the comfort of his arms around you, but you were too afraid to ask him to stay. He stopped at the door, turning to you with his hand on the handle. "Seriously, I know it's hard getting used to having someone to rely on, to talk to. But it's me. Please don't be afraid. I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

His foot was out the hallway before you found yourself whispering two simple words, so quiet you weren't sure he even heard you. "Please, stay."

Somehow, those two powerful words made their way to his ears, and he stopped, before turning, and without another word, climbed into bed beside you, pulling you back into his arms. As you snuggled into his arms, you realized you had found another way to keep the insecurities away, and even though they might never fully go away, at least you had someone in your life that would help fight them with you.


End file.
